<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Bathed in Flames. by Anotheroliveinthehouse</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25534396">Bathed in Flames.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anotheroliveinthehouse/pseuds/Anotheroliveinthehouse'>Anotheroliveinthehouse</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Avatar: The Last Airbender</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Angst and Feels, Bending (Avatar), Dreaming, Dysfunctional Family, Family Issues, Guilt, Iroh (Avatar) is a Good Uncle, Meditation, Personal Growth, Teen Angst, Vignette, Zuko (Avatar)-centric, Zuko's Scar (Avatar), other main characters mentioned - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 08:49:41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,764</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25534396</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anotheroliveinthehouse/pseuds/Anotheroliveinthehouse</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Three vignettes written about three of my favorite parts in Zuko's character arc: where he came from, what he did, and who he became.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Bathed in Flames.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello, I just wanted to post a little something. I'm planning on writing more in the atla/atlab fandom, perhaps you can consider this a test run or a work in progress. Though, I'm not going to be taking this story further on (it's really not my story per se but you get what I mean), it's more a of an exercise for when I do start writing more. </p><p>Enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There were times when he didn’t dream. His sleep was left unmarred by troubling visions of destiny or night terrors of dishonor. However, this wasn’t a night of blissful awareness, as most nights were. He was only half asleep, one part of his brain could still hear the crackling of the fire in the center of his chambers as well as the sound of the water sloshing against the sides of the ship. The air was tainted with the smell of coal burning deep within the belly of the ship. The blazing hot life inside the engine called out to him, the flames he could clearly feel licking up his legs and torso, arms and back, until it entirely engulfed him.</p><p> </p><p>It could have been terrifying for someone else to experience. However, it was only natural for him. Firebenders could sense their element when it was in close vicinity, and of course the stronger the source, the more it made itself known to the benders that controlled it.</p><p> </p><p>This was perhaps the only time of the day in which his bending abilities and his sense of fire did not soothe or calm him, ground him or give him balance. When he slipped into his own dreamworld where he couldn’t hold back his ridgid control on his memories, he fell into the deepest pits of despair. The sound of the crackling fire and the sloshing of the water on ship and the sense of the great roaring fire within said ship only brought him back to the day of his Agni Kai.</p><p> </p><p>The torches that filled the viewing benches around the arena crackled the same as the one in his room. The water in the moat around the arena sloshed against the stone structures that confined it as did the sea against his confining ship. The engine rumbled . . .</p><p> </p><p>Zuko distantly felt the rumbling through his bed from the floor. It wasn’t enough to rouse him from his half-aware state because of how long he had been on this Godforsaken ship. Regardless, the rumbling only further enhanced his painful memory. The rumbling was the way the crowd stomped and cheered for the fight between father and son. It was the sound of the searing flames his father unleashed upon him even when he begged for mercy.</p><p> </p><p>The pain was all he could remember after looking up to see the fire reaching for him. The agony remained for days and days afterwards. It smarted him for weeks to come, the skin always sore and hurting. It would never feel normal, always tight and dry like leather. He was lucky to make it out with his eye and eyesight. </p><p> </p><p>Barely aware he was doing it, Zuko reached for his scar, covering it from any further harm. It was a pathetic attempt. His father could sear through his hand and probably his skull as well. The threat always lingered with him. His father was clear that if he were to return to him, Zuko would be killed.</p><p> </p><p>Banging on his chamber door startled him out of his sleepy brooding and into his fully awake brooding.</p><p> </p><p>“What is it?” He snarled.</p><p> </p><p>“Prince Zuko, we have reached the Southern Water Tribe.”</p><p> </p><p>Cruel excitement swirled in his gut. “Gather your men. We disembark as soon as the ship’s nose crosses into their village.”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Zuko dreamed pleasant visions for once when he was back inside the Fire Nation’s capital, he was <em> home </em>. It felt right to be there. There was always the bonus of having Mai in his arms. Her hair brushed against his chin and her breathing against his throat. Something about those feelings lulled him into a sense of security. </p><p> </p><p>The dreams, while happy and contented, were sure to bring anguish to Zuko when he woke. He dreamt of the Avatar, alive and well. He dreamt being on the shores of the Fire Nation watching the kid sail through the wind off the ocean on that contraption of his. He kept happily gliding without a care in the world, whooping and laughing all the while. It was almost like the scene took place a hundred years prior. When there was no war and the Avatar had visited the Fire Nation as a normal boy. He had friends here and a good relationship with the people. </p><p> </p><p>Of course, Aang was enjoying himself, as were the other three. Toph had busied herself trying her hand at sand bending a sandcastle, though Zuko could tell she wasn’t a huge fan of it. Katara and Sokka were out in the water with Sokka trying to surf but ultimately failing, eventually Katara bended a wave that was easy enough for her brother to ride on. This only boosted his ego.</p><p> </p><p>Zuko smiled, genuinely smiled, at the scene. Maybe this was paradise? Some idyllic world where the crown Prince of the Fire Nation was friends with the Avatar. </p><p> </p><p>As soon as the vision began, it was swiftly taken away. Zuko stirred, feeling the coattails of happiness in its wake. He opened his eyes to the choice he had made. He chose not to fight with the avatar, but against him. His sister had shot down the boy with lightning and killed him, yet gave Zuko the credit. It wasn’t long afterwards that the guilt set in. A myriad of emotions crashed over him. Anguish was the best descriptor. The Avatar’s words echoed to him as he laid there watching his girlfriend as she slept.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> If we knew each other back then, do you think we could have been friends, too? </em>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>It was the day of Zuko’s coronation. He was dressed in robes that reminded him of his father. They were heavy on his shoulders. Or perhaps it was the weight of the responsibility that he now carried. Even though he had not been officially crowned as the new fire lord, he had inherited the position after his father had been forced out. As Ozai’s oldest child, Zuko was set to be crowned and carried the burden of the entire fire nation.</p><p> </p><p>Not even a week ago he was still on the run with the avatar, fighting and sneaking around. He had been starving, imprisoned, shunned, and beaten the first time he had been away from home, right after the Agni Kai. And since then, Zuko has been at his lowest in the past year. He hadn’t even thought he could go lower. Then to be humbled when he joined the avatar’s gang and redeemed himself.</p><p> </p><p>What a journey he had been on.</p><p> </p><p>When Zuko found his own eyes in the mirror of his dressing room, he couldn’t believe the contrast in what he found. He recognized himself, but he had changed so much that he was unsure. He had aged and lost weight, leaving his cheeks hollow and his face gaunt. He was wearing the fire lord’s robes, a sight he never thought to be possible. His hair had grown long enough to be put into a top knot which a hair piece would be placed signifying his new status. It was almost too much to comprehend.</p><p> </p><p>The scar was the only thing that grounded him. It made it unquestionable who Zuko was seeing in the mirror. The person he saw was a product of their journey. Whether the wounds were physical as the scar on his face or invisible as were the ones on his heart, they were testament. They would be his legacy.</p><p> </p><p>He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He faintly felt the candles and low embers of the incense burning in the room. When he took a breath, the few sources of fire flared and grew brighter. Then, Zuko meditated. Everything he was worried about was being pushed aside in his mind. He thought of Iroh and his tea to help.</p><p> </p><p>The first thing Zuko came across in his thoughts was his sister. Azula was still wailing and fighting for escape. This particular thought was unexpectedly painful to deal with. There was so much driving force between them from their father that once he had been removed, it left this awkward, empty space. He always loved his sister, but it wasn’t like how Sokka loved Katara. It was a cold and distant concern. At times, Zuko questioned if he did actually care. He was afraid that maybe too much time and pressure had permanently estranged them. It felt like they could never be able to pick up the pieces or try to have a semblance of normalcy, but he knew he had to try and bridge the gap. Though, in the state Azula was in, that would be completely impossible. Maybe the healers Zuko sent to her would be able to help her. </p><p> </p><p>He pushed the thought away and made it smoke in his mind. It drifted away.</p><p> </p><p>Aang, Katara, Sokka, and Toph were all going on more adventures. Really they were supposed to be helping people in their transition out of the fire nation’s hold. However, Zuko was sure they were prone to stir up trouble. Deep down he worried for their safety, especially now in the midst of great change. There were already reports of rebellions both in and out of the fire nation. Secret groups were being formed and threats on his life were being sent out. He could only imagine what hung over Aang’s head. </p><p> </p><p>The thought became mist, and drifted before settling on another worry.</p><p> </p><p>His mother was still alive. It was a thought that had been pushing for attention in his mind even when he needed to stay focused. He missed her so much at times he felt like he would implode. The first thing he did when he had the power to was order an investigation into the whereabouts of Ursa. Even so, he was planning a visit to see his father. There was a chance the previous fire lord would at least give him something, but Zuko wasn’t optimistic. </p><p> </p><p>The thought turned to rain. Curiously when he opened his eyes to find the rain he began to feel, he found fat tears rolling down his face.</p><p> </p><p>He wiped them away. They had caught him off guard. No more would his emotions catch him unaware. He needed to be comfortable in his ability to feel them, name them, and, to an extent, control them. His empathy was the tool he needed in becoming a great fire lord. One that Ozai refused to acknowledge during his time in power. Hopefully, Zuko would be able to hold onto it.</p><p> </p><p>Hopefully, Zuko would never become his father.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>